Learning to Fly
by Shimegami-chan
Summary: One-shot. Kuririn reveals a long hidden goal, and a failure that's been bothering him for years. Set after the preliminaries of the 23rd Tenkaichi Budoukai, post-Piccolo Daimaou.


A/N: My consciousness would not let me sleep; demanding I get back on the Ouran fanfiction train. _This_ is what came out.

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**Learning to Fly**

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

It was something that had bothered me for years, like a lone D on a straight-A reportcard; that one abysmal failure I hadn't quite managed to forget. You see, I always tended to think about improving myself like a series of tests; when I reach _x_ height good things will happen, when I learn _x_ move I can beat anyone, when I accomplish this or that I will be satisfied with myself. Unless of course I haven't worked up the guts to walk into the test room. Yeah, okay, that's too many analogies in a row. I haven't even been in school since I was eleven. The truth was that I had just done a lot of thinking on some subjects, and high on the list of subjects was deciding whether or not I had become someone I could actually stand.

The thing is, a guy like me has a lot of time on his hands. Pursuing _budou_ demands a certain amount of harmony between yourself and your surroundings, so it was constantly training, meditating, training, meditating...and of course, eating well, sleeping well and playing well, the fundamentals of the Turtle Hermit style. But in between all the punches I've had a lot of time to _think._

This sounds pretty harmless at first. I mean, I trained in a Shaolin monastery for the first dozen years of my life; when you do that much meditating you get pretty used to being alone. Living at Kame House, hundreds of kilometres from the nearest patch of civilization, can also really acquaint you with the concept of becoming harmonious with one's consciousness. (Some of us, at least, don't spend all day watching exercise videos and reading dirty magazines.)

Maybe it was the magazines that did me in in the first place. I often think that, and I'll admit it, I read that one I bribed Muten Roshi-sama with - who wouldn't? It was a long trip to the island, and there wasn't much to keep me busy. I guess back then I wasn't quite so good at the meditation bit. That was before I met Goku, of course.

Thinking back to when I first met him - and Roshi-sama, Lunch, and the others - is something I do a lot lately. I hadn't seen him for three years, after all, and somewhere in the mess that was happening all around us he managed to go after the guy who killed me and take him out, then restored the Dragonballs so I could come back to life. I mean, I thought of Goku as my best friend before that, but _wow_...that's devotion. I've had a lot of time to think that one over as well, while we were counting down the days to the Tenkaichi Budoukai. All the greetings I'd held in reserve for Goku, I'd gone over a hundred times in my head - the good teasing I'd give him at how tall I'd gotten, the smart remark about how much more powerful we both were, a casual invite for a pre-tournament spar.

Obviously, since I'm a sap, I went for the _get teary and hug him so hard he can't breathe _approach.

And that once again brings me back to _that subject_. In the seven years since I landed on Kame Island, I've never managed to work up the nerve to ask him this. I guess I'm afraid of failing the final test; it's embarassing in front of him after all, he's so good at everything and now he's so damned _tall,_ too. It's like I'm never going to catch up. I'm already nineteen years old, so that's it for my growth spurt, and even consoling myself with the fact that Chaozu is still shorter than me really doesn't help much.

So Son Goku for some time has been in the unenviable position of being my best friend who just happens to be better than me in pretty much every way. (Thinking like this has probably doomed me already. We're talking about whether or not I'm a good person, after all.) He's probably the one person who doesn't judge me, either, but the thought of a screwup of this magnitude in front of him kind of turns my stomach. Unlike Bulma-san, Goku won't tease me, but it's as much about proving myself to him as it is to myself. _Look, Goku, I've changed, I'm someone worthy of your friendship. You saved my life and I intend to do the right thing with it._

What the right thing is, I don't know. Fight Piccolo Daimaou alongside him if he turns up again, I guess, or find someone or something else to protect when a new threat comes along. I can't see that far and I don't want to think about it too much, just in case I chicken out, just in case I fail.

And this is it, this is my chance, right? He's talking about flying back to the mainland to run some errand or another for Bulma-san. The matches don't start until tomorrow, and we've had ourselves a grand feast and caught up with each other. It's almost like no time has passed at all, if you ignore the size of Goku and the terrible scars on Yamucha's face. We're just the same people we used to be.

At least, they are. I'm hoping I changed.

"_Kintou'un!_" he yells out, waving his hand to direct the cloud our way. It arrives with its usual flourish, trailing a yellow puff that draws the attention of onlookers who point at the sky. "I'll be back in an hour."

"Thank you, Son-kun," Bulma-san says with a wave.

"Goku," I say quickly, catching him by the sleeve. "Need some company?"

He looks from me to the cloud and I can see the gears turning in his head. "But you can't ride Kintou'un, can you?"

"What are you saying?" I hope my laugh doesn't sound as forced to him as it does to me. "That was years ago. I was a bad kid, okay?"

"Okay." Goku shrugs. It's obvious it's not a big deal to _him._ "You can hold onto me if Kintou'un won't let you ride. I won't let you fall."

He doesn't know that I've learned the _bukujutsu_ technique. If I wanted to, I could fly beside him under my own power, but I don't, and so I won't tell him that. Instead I just brace one hand against the springy yellow surface and let Goku pull me up beside him. I won't look back at Bulma or Roshi-sama, just in case they're going to laugh.

I wonder if I can use _bukujutsu_ to fake it, if I start to fall through the billowy yellow surface.

My feet touch down on the cloud, press, and hold. Goku for once is looking suitably impressed. "You were right! It carries you now!"

"Nice work, Kuririn!" Roshi-sama calls out, and Bulma-san whistles. I think my face must be a little red, but I turn my head to grin at them anyway.

"We're off!" Goku calls, and quick as lightning Kintou'un has shot into the sky and the wind is whipping through the thick fabric of my sweatshirt. I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding.

"Pretty good, huh? Flying, that is." Goku's high spirits are contagious. He thinks I'm up here for the view, and there's no point in trying to explain.

How stupid would it sound? _"I just wanted to make sure I was an okay person now."_ Probably he'd be confused why I'd rather let Kintou'un decide than ask him directly. What could Goku know? He judged everyone innocent until proven guilty.

Probably why I wanted to pass the cloud's test instead. I hoped it wasn't just that competitive spirit in me insisting that anything he could do, I could do. "Yeah, it's fantastic!" I yell, most of the sound stolen by the wind. "I've been wanting to try this for a long time!"

He doesn't say anything for a long time, and I'm thinking again, daring to let myself believe that I've passed Kintou'un's test. The memory of it dumping me on the ground that first time is enough to make my knees shake slightly, but it has chosen not to eject me for recalling it, so I guess my good deeds outweigh the bad ones now. I hope. _Please don't drop me,_ I mentally ask the little cloud.

"I always thought it would be great for us to ride together!" he confides at last, sounding much more like the teenager I remember than the adult he appears to be now. "I'm glad Kintou'un likes you now!"

"I'm just trying to keep up! Can't let you get too far ahead of me, Goku!" False bravado is necessary in such situations so as not to lose face. I think he understands that I don't know what else to say; that I'm just relieved to finally have cleared this last hurdle. I hope he understands, at least. He'd probably forgive me anyway.

This isn't about the tournament, of course, but it doesn't matter if that's what he thinks. He probably does, and so there is a long moment when I'm not sure if I've just said the wrong thing or not, but it's Goku, so it turns out to be _not_. "In that case, I won't lose to you!" he finally says and held up a fist, smiling widely.

I touched my knuckles to his with a grin of my own. "You're on."

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_-end-_

A/N: Oho, the machismo combined with introspective brooding and unabashed sappiness! I can see this being one of the fics I'll be embarassed to reread in a couple years' time. :P

I always thought it was such a gyp that Kuririn never got to ride Kintou'un at all even when it was obvious he had potential.


End file.
